Real Love
by taitofan
Summary: One boy, ten tales of love. Six of ten done. Latest love: Sometimes Roger wanted to knock some sense into Lezard... Once he finally does it, things are liable to never be the same again.
1. Lucien, The Truth

Real Love—The Truth

by taitofan

Rated PG-13 for yaoi

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Ocean 3, the four optional characters would have been mandatory, Sophia would have pulled an Aerith, Melt would have done more, and AlbelxFayt would have been canon. None of that happened, and thus, I don't own it.

Author's notes: And here I go again! I joined another writing prompt community at LiveJournal, and this time the challenge was to take one character and write them in ten different pairings. I chose my newest fandom, and as for the character…I chose Roger. Why? Well, one, there are basically no Roger fics out there, let alone romantic ones. Luckily, there are a few good ones, and I will be plugging them once I get to the corresponding couples, so watch for those. And my second reason, quite frankly, is that I like more couples involving Roger than any other character. It was easy to find ten characters to pair him with. This first one is my favorite Roger couple of them all—the cute pintsized rivals. Heck, even in the FaytxRoger ending this couple got more hints! There are two other couples in this too—one obvious and one not so obvious. See if you can find them.

10 whores prompt: 09. the truth

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 08-27-07

* * *

Forte G. Huxley frowned as she examined the wound on her son's ankle. It wasn't broken, but it was swollen and red, and he probably would be in pain for a few days at least. She shook her head as she told him to stay put while she got the bandages, ignoring the fact that her husband was congratulating Roger. _Congratulating_ him for playing those dangerous games with the other boys and getting hurt again! Men. She'd _never_ understand them…

"—and it was really cool when I fell over the cliff, cause I grabbed it midair and won the contest! You shoulda seen Lucien's face when Dribe told him that put me ahead!" Forte didn't know the specifics of the latest "Real Man Contest" and quiet frankly, she didn't care. Rarely did anything worry her…except for the well-being of her only child. She realized that Aznor had done the same thing at his age, but she never remembered him getting hurt so often, and he certainly hadn't limited his contests to just one person as Roger had… Lucien, it was always that little cat boy. _Always_.

Oh, how she longed for the days when the six boys had all been friends, before their silly rivalry had started. She could still remember having six little humanoids running about the house for sleepovers, Vellion and Dribe raiding cookie jars, Melt and Lezard talking about subjects far more advanced than most children their age could comprehend, and Roger and Lucien…well, they'd always had their rivalry she supposed. Even as small children, they seemed to compete in silly little challenges, from who could drink their milk the fastest to who could go the longest without blinking. Although, at least back then, no one was almost breaking their ankles.

"Tomorrow we're gonna have a rematch, cause Lucien said he hadn't felt good. _Real men_ don't make excuses, but I agreed. I know I can kick his tail any day of the week!" Forte returned with the bandages, shaking her head wearily as she began applying salve and dressing the wound. That boy…

"Roger Huxley, with your ankle like this, you won't be doing anything of the sort for at _least_ three days. I don't even want you leaving the house tomorrow, understand?" Roger's large brown eyes widened further, a look of disbelief etched on his face. She was unmoved.

"But mama, that's not fair! I'll be fine in the morning, I just know it! Come on, I _can't_ back down. Lucien will win by default if I'm not there!" Aznor opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly closed it when his wife shot him a look. Mayor or not, there were just some things he knew better than to mess with…

"Your mother is right. Being a real man isn't just about bravery and strength. You need to be smart too. You don't want to push yourself until you get hurt badly enough to stop you from having your contests altogether, do you?" Roger sighed, knowing that with neither parent on his side, it was a lost cause. She knew it didn't mean he had to _like it_ though.

"Fine…" He looked downright rejected, and finally, Forte took some pity upon him. He was only twelve, and he'd just finished saving the world with people from another planet—having his ankle stop him after all that must not seem at all fair.

"Roger, there's more to being a real man than anything you might do in one of those contests. Real men need to do things like take care of their families and loved ones. If you really want to be a good man when you're older, you need to learn to turn down dangerous dares. If you got hurt, it would hurt your father and me. And how do you think Lucien's family would feel if _he_ got hurt? …How would _you_ feel?" Roger's pouting ceased immediately at the question, and Forte could practically see the gears moving in his head. He'd obviously never assumed the older boy could get hurt. That was children for her, always thinking they were invincible…

"So… If I wanna prove to Lucien I'm a real man, I gotta find somebody to love?" She blinked at his question, wondering how her child's mind could _possibly_ wander so far off track…

"Well, that wasn't _quite_ my point. You need to protect people—yourself, family, friends, and one day, your wife and children. A real man would even look out for his rivals. So if you and Lucien claim to be men, you need to start acting responsible. Understand?" He nodded, and she thought she'd be left to finish the bandaging, until…

"So, do I _have_ to get married? Why can't things just stay the way they are now?" She chuckled at the innocent question. He acted so much like his father did at that age…

"Well, you don't _have_ to, but one day you'll meet a girl and fall in love, and you'll want to marry her. By then you'll realize that you don't have to prove to anyone that you're a man—you'll already be one." He looked skeptical, but stayed quiet until she was done. Then, with a small thank you, he hobbled off in the direction of his room, leaving her to wonder if he would listen to a word she said…

"You're assuming he'll end up like me." She turned around to face her husband, a confused look on her face.

"Come again?" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, gesturing in the direction Roger had left in with his free hand.

"You assume he'll grow out of the contests one day like I did when I married you. But what if he doesn't? Maybe he and Lucien will be challenging each other all their lives." She thought about it for a few moments before shaking her head lightly.

"I doubt there's any woman out there who would stand by while her husband did dares that could kill him." There was a twinkle in his eyes that she didn't miss. He might not be good with the faces of strangers, but there was little he missed otherwise. What did he know that she didn't…?

"No, probably not… But that doesn't mean he might not find someone else who's more than willing to allow the contests to continue." She was still confused, but before she could question the meaning behind his words, he kissed her cheek and walked towards the door, calling over his shoulder to tell her he had duties as mayor to attend to. Now she _knew_ that he knew something she didn't…

* * *

The next day, Forte still hadn't gotten her answers. She hadn't had the time to worry though, as she kept an eye open at all times to make sure Roger stayed put and didn't try to sneak out. She knew the temptation would be great, but she wouldn't stand for him going out and breaking his ankle for real.

It came as no surprise when a knock sounded on the door shortly after lunchtime. She was sure it was Melt or Dribe—mostly likely both—coming to see why Roger hadn't shown up. She wouldn't put it past her son to pretend he hadn't been hurt in front of his friends. However, she was fully surprised when she opened the door and it was neither a wolf boy _nor_ a fox boy…

"Hello Lucien. Can I help you?" The thirteen-year-old hadn't changed all that much from the days he was constantly playing with Roger, rather than fighting with him. He was still far taller than Roger, though the difference in species accounted for that—the Menodix were naturally short. He still had that air of confidence, almost to the point of cockiness, about him, much like her son. And with the slight bow he gave her, it seemed that his rebellious stage hadn't hindered his manners.

"Afternoon Mrs. Huxley. Just wanted to know if you knew where Roger was. We were supposed to have a Real Man Contest today, but he never showed, and his friends don't know where he is either." She almost pointed out that they used to be his friends too, but instead kept quiet and let him finish. "You haven't seen him lately, have ya?"

"He's in his room actually," she informed him, somewhat amused when his eyes narrowed. She could only imagine what he was thinking… "His ankle was hurt in your contest yesterday, and I wouldn't let him leave the house." The annoyed look quickly melted away at that, leaving a thinly veiled concern in its wake.

"He hurt himself…?" Just as she'd thought—Roger hadn't told anyone. "Is…is he okay?" She nodded, causing a small look of relief to flit upon his face before his expression returned to its previous nonchalance. It was relieving to see that no matter what had happened, Lucien still cared about Roger. They'd been good friends for so long—it had broken her heart the first time Roger came home, near tears, telling her that Lucien didn't want to be friends anymore. The six friends had started their group rivalries the very next day.

"He'll be fine in a few days. …Would you like to come in and see him?" He looked shocked at the question, as well as a bit nervous. His tail flicked erratically as he glanced around, as if looking for someone. Forte would have bet all the fol she had that he was looking to see if Lezard or any of the others were watching. After a few moments, he nodded, albeit hesitantly. With a small smile playing on her lips, she stepped aside and allowed him in.

It didn't really surprise her when he headed straight to Roger's room. Even after what seemed like so long, he hadn't forgotten… She knew that her son was more than likely to be a bit shocked at his visitor though. She knew she should give them some privacy…but then again, did she really want to miss the show? Deciding that no, no she most certainly didn't, she quietly made her way to her son's room, getting there just in time for Lucien to slip in. The door fell half shut behind him, giving her _just_ enough room to peek inside without being seen…

"…Hey goofball." Roger looked up from one of his father's books, not seeming surprised at all, actually. In fact, he was even frowning a bit.

"Yeah, I know, I didn't make it, so I forfeit, and we're tied again. Or does a forfeit count as _two_ losses now? I don't care, just leave me alone." She rather expected a fight at that point, but Lucien merely lowered his gaze to the floor, a guilty look on his face.

"Well, Lezard _did_ suggest that, but I said no. And know that I know you're hurt… I call the whole thing off. We're still tied." Roger looked at him suspiciously, but Lucien refused to meet his gaze.

"I don't want your pity. Real men don't need pity…" Lucien's head finally raised, a small scowl on his face.

"It ain't pity ya goofball! What, is it a crime to be concerned about the people I care about now or somethin'?" A rather…interesting thing happened then. Lucien slapped his hands over his mouth, as if he could get back the words that had obviously slipped out against his will. Roger, eyes wide, gazed up at him with unbridled curiosity.

"You care about me?" Lucien did a good job keeping the color of his face under control, but his tail whipped around his feet, giving away his nervous feelings.

"Of course I do, ya fool… You're my rival after all. I wouldn't waste my time with someone unworthy…" Forte didn't believe that explanation for a minute, and judging by the look on Roger's face, neither did he.

"I don't see why ya'd _have_ to care about your rival…unless they were your friend too." They were silent for a few moments, the only sound being the swoosh of Lucien's tail against the wooden floor. Finally, Roger let out a small sigh, closing his eyes and leaning against his bed's headboard. "Do you ever wish we'd never become rivals and stayed as friends instead?" Lucien shrugged, then remembered that Roger couldn't very well see the gesture with his eyes closed…

"Not really. I…" He trailed off, and Roger cracked open one eye to see the blush finally forming on the older boy's face. He looked as intrigued as Forte felt.

"You what? Come on, tell me why ya did it! Tell me why you said we couldn't be friends anymore! And tell the truth!" Lucien sighed and sat on the side of Roger's bed, a look of melancholy in his eyes. Forte was finally beginning to realize what her husband had meant…

"The truth, eh? Well, if you think you can handle it…" The look on Roger's face told him to stop stalling and hurry up. He smirked a bit, but complied nonetheless. "Alright, alright, I'll tell ya… When I turned ten, my dad told me I was on my way to becoming a real man. Then Lezard said, once we were alone of course, that if I wanted to be a man, I had to beat out the competition. He said the only way I could be a man was if I had a rival that I could be better than. Well… You're the only one I could see as my rival, you know? Melt is already Lezard's so he was outta the picture, and Dribe and Vellion ain't brave enough to do these contests. You were my best friend, so…I figured you'd make the best rival too."

"O-oh…" Roger murmured, lowering his gaze as he took that in. Lucien waited amazingly patiently as he thought it all over. A few minutes later, he looked up, a mixture of confusion and curiosity written on his face. "Yesterday, mama said one day I'll fall in love with a girl and not wanna be your rival anymore. I like the way things are though… But I liked it when we were friends too. Can't we be both and leave girls outta it?"

…Forte wasn't sure whose eyes went wider at the question—hers or Lucien's. The young teenager recovered first though, his face flushed at the insinuations of Roger's words.

"Ya _do_ know what you're talking about, right? I mean, if we stayed just the two of just forever with no girls, people would say we're, you know…" Roger nodded, his face matching the color of the other boy's, though his eyes showed determination.

"Yeah, they probably would, but who cares? You're more interesting than any dumb ole girl… And two of the guys I was traveling with were _definitely_ real men, and they were together. Remember the blue-haired swordsman and that scary guy in the skirt?" Lucien's look was skeptical at that. "No, it's true! I used to sp—I mean, I used to _accidentally_ catch 'em kissin' sometimes. If they could do it, so can we!"

"I…" Forte was, for once, thrown completely off-kilter by this conversation. Did her son truly have a crush on Lucien, or was this some spur of the moment decision? She didn't have time to ponder it further as Lucien, at a loss for words, decided to _show_ Roger his response instead. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Roger's, rather clumsily, but full of sincerity. Roger kissed back, equally as inexperienced, but also with equal earnestness. Watching her son's first kiss… It was sweet, yet strange. She doubted many parents got to witness such a sight. And as they pulled back and smiled, she no longer had her doubts as to what her son was feeling.

"I've…kinda wanted to do that for a while now. Back when I was with Fayt and the others actually. The first time I saw him and Albel together… I thought about you and me. We always fought too, but I knew we were still friends anyway. So I thought about kissing you and…I liked it. …I liked doin' it for real too!" The last part was accompanied by a grin, which Lucien readily returned.

"I've wanted to kiss you since ya left with all those guys. It was so boring without you! Lezard was the only one havin' any fun, makin' traps for Melt. I had this dream, and we had another Real Man Contest, but we had to see who could go the longest kissin' without needing to breathe. I wanted to try it for real…" As the confessions came to a close, Roger chuckled, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

"Is that so? I bet I won." Then that same look of confidence entered Lucien's eyes as well, and it seemed that Aznor was right. Those two really _would_ grow up without ever losing their rivalry…though they'd be gaining something else in the meanwhile.

"Not a chance! _I_ won. And I'll prove it to ya! Whoever goes the longest without breathing is the _real_ man!"

"You're on!"

It seemed she'd been right too—their contests were bound to change eventually. She had a feeling that they'd no longer be pressured into partaking in more dangerous stunts, if only because they now had someone else to think about other then themselves. No, she wasn't at all upset by this turn of events, not one bit. Far from it—she was glad. Now Roger would be happy and safe. What more could a mother ask for?

"Give the boys some privacy, dear." She jumped a bit at the sudden voice of her husband, silently scolding herself a bit for not sensing him earlier. But this was all rather exciting, so she supposed she had a good excuse.

"Alright, alright… You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" He nodded at the accusation, a small smile on his face.

"I had just had a feeling, that's all. Glad to see I was right. …Now, how about we give these two some time to reacquaint their friendship, hmm? We wouldn't want to get in the middle of their quest to see who's the real man." Forte shook her head, not bothering to hide the pleased smile that graced her face.

"No, I guess we wouldn't…" And with that, she followed her husband to the kitchen, leaving Lucien and Roger to their latest challenge.


	2. Fayt, Air Conditioning

Real Love—Air Conditioner

by taitofan

Rated PG-13 for yaoi

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Ocean 3, the four optional characters would have been mandatory, Sophia would have pulled an Aerith, Melt would have done more, and AlbelxFayt would have been canon. None of that happened, and thus, I don't own it.

Author's notes: Part two is here, and this time, we have a complete PWP fic based upon the FaytxRoger ending. Gee, which couple might _this_ be…? Sarcasm aside, I must now do the plugging I promised in the first fic. If you like FaytxRoger, go read Jamarie's _Someday My Prince Will Come_ after this. It's simply excellent, and definitely the best AU fic I've read in the entire fandom. Um, there's another couple hinted here, which will probably be hinted at…a lot. Sorry, OTPs get cameo privileges. Congrats if you figure it out. X3

10whores prompt: 01. air conditioner

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 09-10-07

* * *

Surferio was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. It was like a place out of a faerie tale, much like the rest of Elicoor II, but of everywhere on the planet he'd been, Fayt found that he much preferred the serene beauty of Surferio. The occupants of the city kept him there too…especially a certain twelve-year-old Menodix boy. Of everyone he'd met on their little journey to save the universe, Roger had been the one he'd gotten closest to, and the one he'd decided to stay with when all was said and done. He'd been living there for three months now, staying in the spare room at the Huxley residence, and he'd learned a few things while there…

One, Roger had some odd friends. Endearing, but odd. The two groups were more or less counterparts of each other he came to find, after viewing countless Real Man Contests. Roger and Lucien competed, while Dribe and Vellion cheered them on, and Melt and Lezard watched from afar. Lezard came up with most of the contests, and despite the danger they tended to involve, they were usually rather fun to watch. Roger was always so happy after he won, and if he tied or lost… Fayt almost wished Lezard would tip the scales in Lucien's favor more often, because a dejected Roger was one that tended to crawl into his bed at night, claiming he couldn't sleep.

…He admitted it...well, to himself at least. He'd been a bit more interested in Roger than he knew he should be ever since they traveled though Duggus Forest with Cliff and Nel. These days, he couldn't even believe he'd almost left him in that cage…but there was no use in worrying about that now. That brought him to realization number two. After a few weeks in Surferio, wondering why he'd stayed there of all places instead of leaving to be with any of the others, it hit him. He loved Roger. After months of traveling, fighting together, and saving the world, he'd come to adore that cocky little boy…

Oh, and there was a third thing he'd come to know too. Apparently, he'd first come to Surferio—back when they got the Ancient Books and Roger joined up with them again—it had been _winter_ in the Sanmite Republic. The entire country was a sunny paradise all year round… And now it was summer. And summer in Surferio was _hot_.

"How can you take it?" Fayt looked over to where Roger was dangling his toes in the water that lay beneath the city. His boots, helmet, and gloves were absent, but the rest of his clothes were otherwise there. He, on the other hand, had striped down to just his shorts, laying on his stomach on one of the docks at the edge of town, dipping his arm into the lukewarm water.

"I'm just used to it I guess. I mean, it's not _that_ hot… Just wait till _next_ month." Fayt groaned, and Roger chuckled at his discomfort. "Come on ya big baby, we beat Luther…don't tell me a little heat is gonna bring ya down!"

"Of course not," Fayt groused, flicking some of the water at Roger and resisting the urge to smile when his ears twitched in irritation at the gesture. It was…cute. Of course, he'd never tell the Menodix boy that. Real men weren't supposed to be cute after all. "I just wish this planet had air conditioning. At this rate, I'll need to run around naked to stay cool…" He closed his eyes as he daydreamed about sweet, sweet air conditioning, thus missing the red hue that graced Roger's face at the last comment.

"I…um…what's air conditioning?" Snapping out of his little, cool, dream world, Fayt opened his eyes, seeing the traces of the blush left on Roger's face.

"It's a device that can keep the air cool inside a building or vehicle. Some planets have climate control so it never gets too hot or cold, but that obviously wouldn't be on an underdeveloped planet… Maybe I can contact Cliff or Maria and see if they'd bring me a thermostat… Though they might kill me if I called them for _that_…" Realizing that he'd probably lost Roger a long time ago, he swiftly changed the subject. "Are you sure you're not too hot? Your face is pretty red. Maybe you should take those overalls off."

"D-don't be so stupid, I told ya I'm fine. You were the one talkin' about getting naked…" It then hit Fayt—he'd made Roger blush over the thought of his nude body. …Interesting. "And now ya wanna get me naked too ya pervert!" …Wait, what?

"I don't think I said _that_…" Out loud at least.

"You said I should take off my clothes!"

"Just your overalls! I didn't tell you to strip down in front of me!" They were silent for a few minutes after that, Fayt wondering what in the world gave him _that_ impression—true desires or not, he hadn't _said_ it—and Roger crossing his arms and staring at the water, his face brightly flushed. After a short while, Roger glanced up at the swordsman, a peculiar gleam in his large brown eyes.

"Do you have a crush on me?" He was silent a few moments, pondering what his answer would be. He'd said he wouldn't lie…

"What gave you that idea?" And technically, avoiding the question _wasn't_ lying.

"Melt told me you did," he admitted, the blush having died down by that point, but still faintly visible. He was only twelve after all, no matter how he acted sometimes… He was hardly used to talking about romance. Then again, Fayt was hardly an expert himself… "He said he didn't even need to read it in the stars, cuz it was obvious. To him at least…" Ah, Melt. Of all of Roger's friends, he was certainly the most mature, even to the point where Fayt himself felt childish around him at times. He wasn't at all surprised that Melt would have picked up on his little illegal-on-some-planets infatuation…though he did find it ironic that the boy didn't seem to pick up on the obvious fixation a certain alchemist-in-training harbored for him. Oh well.

"Well… Would you have a problem if I _did_ like you that way?" He patted himself on the back. Maybe he could avoid the question all day until Roger got bored and went off to find his friends.

"Stop avoidin' the question! Everyone else is busy today, so you ain't gettin' rid of me that easy!" Fayt blinked at that before sitting up and facing Roger, who looked proud that he'd been so perceptive. Fayt had to smile at that—Roger really would make a fine man someday…and maybe he'd get the chance to see it first hand. He just needed to know one thing… "Oh, and to answer your question…no. I wouldn't mind at all."

…And there was his answer.

He scooted closer to the Menodix boy, enjoying the embarrassed flush that reappeared at the close proximity. There was so much wrong about this, Fayt knew. The age difference for one…but that wouldn't matter once they were older. Then there was the species difference…well, humanoids just had extra tails and furrier ears, and that hardly bothered him. And the gender issue…was it really an issue? From what he'd learned after all this time, Elicoor II had no problems with such things. He'd seen same-sex couples everywhere he'd been on the continent, and no one had batted an eyelid. He supposed that maybe there was nothing wrong with this after all. He loved Roger, and Roger…

"That's good to hear. Does that mean you won't mind when I kiss you?" And there was that beautiful blush back in full bloom again. The boy didn't answer right away, and Fayt wondered if maybe he'd gone too far. Sure, the seven-year gap wouldn't matter _one day_, but Roger wasn't even a teenager yet, while Fayt was only a year away from twenty. Maybe he was rushing things…

"Nah, go ahead. I'm a man after all; I can handle a kiss." Fayt couldn't help it—he chuckled at Roger's confident tone. It was obvious by the way his fluffy tail swayed erratically that he was hardly as calm as he was acting. Ah well, he had permission, and he certainly wasn't going to pass up this opportunity…

Fayt closed the small gap between them and captured the boy's lips in a kiss. The skin was soft, yet slightly chapped, much like he'd imagined. This was much better than any dream he'd had though, because this time he knew he wouldn't wake up in need of a cold shower. No, that sound that Roger was making—that surprised and pleased moan—it _couldn't _be a dream. It was delicious, intoxicating…he needed more. He nudged Roger's lips open with his own as he put his arms around the boy's waist, pulling him into his lap for easier access. His tongue darted out and coaxed Roger's into joining him. Hesitantly, Roger looped his arms around Fayt's neck and mimicked his actions, moaning all the louder at the assault.

By this point, not even being a native was keeping Roger from being bothered by the heat, even if some of it wasn't weather related at all. He broke the kiss and pulled away just enough so that he could speak. Fayt was concerned that perhaps he'd done something wrong, until Roger's breathy voice met his ears…

"Too hot," he murmured, absently bringing one hand up to run his fingers down Fayt's naked chest. "Gotta take this off…" Fayt might have quipped about it now being Roger _himself_ who was talking about taking off his clothes, but he was far too distracted by the flushed boy in his arms to be a smart aleck. He watched silently as Roger's nimble fingers quickly undid his armor-like overall buckles. The boy got off Fayt's lap long enough to shimmy out of them, and then slip his long-sleeved shirt over his head. Once he was in a state of undress comparable to his partner's, he crawled back to Fayt's lap and returned his arms to their previous position, effectively pulling Fayt's face down for better access.

Fayt didn't need to be told twice. He pulled Roger into another heated kiss, his hands roaming the boy's back, sides, thighs, anywhere he could reach. To think he'd finally gotten who he'd wanted for so long. He wondered how far he could take it…

"Hey Roger, where are yo—whoa!" …Not very far it seemed. Roger immediately broke this kiss at the sound of his friend's voice, his eyes wide. He didn't move away though.

"O-oh, hey Dribe. Ya need somethin'?" The fox boy's face was flushed bright red at the sight of his best friend in such a compromising position…both of their lacks of clothing certainly contributed as well.

"Ah, I was gonna see if you wanted to go somewhere since Melt is busy doing…_something_ with Lezard, but I can see you're busy too… I'll, um, see you later Roger." Without waiting for a response, he turned and began sprinting away, only to stop halfway down the dock, give them one more glance, then take off again. Once he was out of view, Roger groaned, burying his face in the crook of Fayt's neck.

"Great, he's gonna go tell Melt, and if Lezard is around, all of Surferio's gonna know by dinner!" Fayt chuckled, not bothered by the body heat of the boy clinging to him. _This_ was one heat he could handle.

"Well, now we won't have to decide how to tell everyone we're together, will we?" Roger slowly lifted his head up, a somewhat bashful look on his face. To put it simply, he looked _adorable_.

"Together, huh? You mean…you and me are boyfriends?" Fayt nodded, his typical kind smile on his face.

"As long as you don't mind." Roger gave his answer in the form of pressing his lips back against Fayt's enthusiastically. Fayt chuckled into the kiss, thanking the gods that he'd gotten this wonderful boy for himself…

Now he just needed a damned air conditioner.


	3. Melt, Hydrogen

Real Love—Written in the Stars

by taitofan

Rated PG-13 for yaoi

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Ocean 3, the four optional characters would have been mandatory, Sophia would have pulled an Aerith, Melt would have done more, and AlbelxFayt would have been canon. None of that happened, and thus, I don't own it.

Author's notes: I…kinda cheated on this one. Note that it's not named hydrogen, like the theme. But stars are made up of lots of hydrogen, so… Yeah, this fic was actually an oneshot I did this summer, but I thought I'd use it here, especially since the theme was so open. Anyway, this takes place based on how I played the game—taking Albel and Peppita and leaving Roger and Nel behind. It works better for the plot you see. I took _many_ artistic liberties with the background history of the Surferio kids in this one…a lot was based on things I'd read them saying walking around in their houses, though if you saw some dialogue that I didn't that contradicts with anything I've written, please tell me! Lezard especially had an interesting quote that a lot of this was based on. This is also the first one without the background couple I keep adding in…or is it? Hehe, you'll see…

10whores prompt: 10. hydrogen

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 08-10-07

* * *

Melt was a boy of few words. He didn't need them—he saw all and knew all. Such a higher level of understanding at such a young age had helped him to see that grandiose speeches only got in the way most of the time, whether because the listener got bored or simply didn't understand him. Therefore, he tended to keep what he said short and to the point. There were a few exceptions of course—when he spoke to himself, when someone requested a further explanation, and Roger S. Huxley. 

Mind you, Roger didn't understand half of the things he said, and he even admitted it. But unlike everyone else, he'd still allow him to speak his fill before replying that he understood the first ten words, but it sounded smart, so he was probably right. Not even Dribe would _really_ listen to him—not _consistently_—so Roger's effort was highly appreciated. Roger had always been that way though. When Melt had first moved to Surferio, the mayor's son had been the first to befriend "that strange new boy" as the other children called him. Dribe had followed simply because of Roger's lead. Vellion might have befriended him if it wasn't for Lezard and Lucien, but that hardly mattered now. As long as he had Roger, he'd be content.

Roger didn't care that the clan he descended from could read the stars. Roger didn't care that the ability he'd inherited caused his strange behavior, speech, and dress. Roger didn't care that he preferred not to take part in the Real Man Contests. Roger didn't think he was strange because he read books in ancient, dead languages. Roger didn't find his yellow eyes, which almost glowed at times, creepy. Roger…Roger was the best thing in Melt's otherwise dull existence. Therefore, when the boy walked dejectedly back to Surferio after being away for months, Melt couldn't help but be deliriously happy.

He hid it well of course. As Roger told him and Dribe, in a tone that was nothing short of miserable, that they'd made him and the others from their world stay rather than go to other worlds, he did something he hardly ever did. He allowed himself to be selfish. He thanked every higher being in existence that Roger had stayed in Surferio—with him—rather than going with his new friends. Melt didn't want him to have new friends who would only take him away and put him in danger. Lezard and Lucien might put him up to idiotic, dangerous contests, but at least then Melt was always around to help him if things went wrong. Ever since he'd met _those_ people though, it felt like Roger was slipping away…

But he'd gotten the Menodix boy back, and that had been all that mattered.

It took a month, but everyone fell into their regular routines yet again, and Roger finally stopped bringing up the names Fayt, Cliff, Albel, Adray, Maria, and _especially_ Nel in every conversation. Melt had briefly met them all when they'd stayed at Roger's house for the night to rest up, and those nights had always been hard—knowing Roger was so close and yet still so far. It had been easy to see that Roger had a crush on Nel…but Melt, though young, was beyond crushes. He knew it, and he wouldn't deny it. Therefore, the day those people all came through Surferio after being gone for so long, he felt his heart break. That was it, they'd be taking Roger with them, he just knew it…

Then they found out, while they stayed at Roger's house for the night while he and Dribe had tagged along, that the one named Albel had left the planet with them. There was also a new girl with them, with blonde hair and sun-kissed skin—Peppita. Nel was nowhere to be seen. They weren't there to take Roger after all… Melt decided to read the stars more often, if only to avoid such anxiety in the future.

After they left, claiming they didn't know when they'd be back, if ever, Roger was worse off than the first time they'd separated, though he hid it well until they were gone. But just as soon as that happened…

"Aw man, it's just not fair! I can't believe they left me behind, but they took that crazy guy and a little girl!" Melt listened to the dejected ranting patiently, not bothering to point out that Fayt had his eyes on Albel all night long or that Peppita was older than they were. It wouldn't have done any good. Dribe had gotten in trouble with his parents for breaking something or other, so it was just the two of them. He knew it was hardly polite, but he was glad. Being alone with Roger always allowed him to be more himself and less the person he restrained himself to be around others. "I mean, at least they didn't take Nel either, but why _Albel_? I wonder if he forced 'em…"

"…No," Melt said simply, causing Roger to give him an odd look when no further explanation was offered.

"Really? And why's that? Did ya read it in the stars or somethin'?" Melt shook his head slightly, smiling just a bit. Lezard had always called him a liar when it came to reading the stars, and the others were always skeptical, but not Roger. He'd always believed, and Melt couldn't thank him enough for it.

"No, I didn't need to; I could tell just by assessing the situation. The strings of fate obviously bond their souls. Whatever reason he had for staying with them, I can assure you that it was due to their feelings for each other, though they are still obviously hiding it from the others…possibly even themselves." Roger, as per usual, only looked confused.

"Strings of fate? Feelings? Who are ya talkin' about? You make it sound like one of 'em is in love with Albel… Who'd be that crazy?" Melt chuckled softly at his friend's naivety. For all that he claimed to be a ladies' man, he was completely clueless on the subject of love.

"I cannot tell you specifics as I do not know them well and I cannot yet read the stars well enough to find out such information, but it's obvious that Fayt and Albel are destined to each other. I could tell, by sight and by a feeling… I'm sure of that." The smaller boy shook his head vehemently, not willing to believe his friend's words.

"No way! I know you can usually just tell these things, but you're way off this time! Fayt isn't like that, he wouldn't like _him_…" There was a twinge in Melt's heart at those words. He wanted to ask something, but could he handle the answer? No, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to ask, only to brood upon it later. It would do him no good in the long run…

"I've heard the tales of Albel the Wicked from travelers… Though he hardly seems a threat now that he's helping to save our universe from destruction. …Are you against the idea because of him, or because he is a man rather than a woman?" Roger was quiet for a few minutes, which was a rare occurrence indeed. Melt could feel the tension in the air; it was almost tangible. He'd never thought Roger would be against the idea of two men together. There were only a few races that harbored such prejudice that he knew of, and the Menodix weren't among them. Surely, he was wrong and it was brought on by feelings of ill will against Albel for being in the group instead of Roger, it _must_ be…

"Lezard and Lucien told us that real men get the prettiest girls, remember? Fayt's a real man; I just know it. So ya _gotta_ be wrong. That stuff can happen, but…not to someone like Fayt. He wouldn't be so…" Despite his feelings for the boy, Melt could feel his usually nonexistent temper rising. How could Roger say such things? Surely, he wouldn't believe those troublesome pests over him!

"Lezard and Lucian know not of what they speak. You should know the mind games Lezard plays by now. However, if you honestly believe that Fayt is a lesser man because of his feelings, then you may be as foolish as they are. The mark of a real man is taking your emotions and being true to them while remaining strong in mind, body, and soul. That includes accepting love in whomever you find it, man or woman. It's only common sense." Roger was silent for only a few moments this time, mainly because he had to cross his arms and let out a _humph_ before he replied.

"I dunno what you've been seeing in those stupid stars, but you're crazy, just crazy! I'm not the foolish one, you are!" Melt's temper rose up another notch, and his heart ached just a little more. That was the first time in all the years they'd known each other that Roger had said he was crazy. He sounded…just like the rest of the village.

"Perhaps I _am_ crazy. I'd have to be to harbor any affection for someone so…ignorant." Before Roger could question him on that, he continued, determined to know one more thing before he lost his nerve, something he'd wanted to know for two years. "You seem very convinced that your misconceived notion is the morally correct one. What would you do if I told you that I myself was like that?"

"I…" Melt's heart sped up so much that he could feel the beating in his chest. There, he'd given Roger all the information he needed, and even as naïve as he was, even _he_ could piece his words together. It was obvious that his feelings were not returned, but surely, Roger would change his tune and they'd still remain friends… Right? "I'd tell you that we shouldn't hang out anymore then. You've never like Real Man Contests anyway. You should just study your dumb old stars more…"

His throat tightened, the beating in his heart grinded to a halt, and the last piece of Melt's heart broke. His anger was suddenly gone and replaced with a hollow, dull ache. So, that was how Roger wanted it, was it? All right…

"…If that is your desire, then I shall leave you alone in the future. Goodbye Roger." He got up without another word and quickly headed in the direction of his home. He didn't stop when he heard the frustrated growl of the voice he grown so fond of… Right then, he had to get home before the moisture that threatened to spill from his bright eyes won the battle. Roger might have broken his heart, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

A broken heart at the young age of twelve… Yes, he was very possibly just as insane as the village thought he was. Still, he wished things had gone differently…

'_But I've always wanted Roger's happiness… I suppose if not seeing me will achieve that, I shall cope. I shall no longer be selfish…_'

For the first time in his life, he cursed the stars for not showing him his destiny in time to change it, and himself for being foolish enough to let it happen in the first place.

* * *

"Come on Roger, whatever you two are arguing about, just go and apologize already! That was the fifth contest you've lost in a row to Lucien, and you almost broke your arm today! You're way too distracted over whatever the problem is." Roger glared at Dribe half-heartily, knowing it was true, but not about to admit it. 

"So what if I've been distracted? Who says it has anything to do with _him_? And who says it's _my_ fault anyway? Maybe it's all Melt's fault!" Dribe gave him a look that clearly said that he didn't believe him.

"Since when has Melt _ever_ started a fight?" When Roger didn't answer, he continued smugly. "See? _Never_. Whatever it is, it was _your_ fault, and you're gonna kill yourself if you don't apologize to him already. It's been two weeks, and I haven't even seen him leave his house. He's gonna run out of food at this rate. So just go over there, huh? Don't be such a stubborn jerk!" Roger hated giving in, really he did, but he was just as concerned as Dribe was, probably even more so. Melt's parents were both dead, and the old woman he'd lived with, Louise, had left Surferio a few months back. Melt had gotten the house and had enough fol to live there just fine, but it didn't change the fact that he was still alone. If he wasn't leaving his house…

"I gotta go. I'll see you later…" Dribe watched the smaller boy run off, a sigh escaping his lips at the sight. He was punished for _one day_, and everything went to hell… He wished he knew what had gone on between them, but he figured he'd know when the time was right. No point worrying about it now, at any rate.

"Just don't make things worse Roger…"

* * *

Melt was very surprised when he heard a knock on the door. He was even _more_ surprised to find Roger standing there, a worried look on his face, when he opened it. He supposed that his feelings of melancholy had dulled his senses, as he had always been able to sense the Menodix boy's presence in the past. There was no use worrying about it now though, not when he was standing right there, a large sack in his arms. Without a word, he stepped aside and allowed him to enter. 

"So, ah… When was the last time you ate?" Melt was a hard person to throw of kilter, but the seemingly random question did just that.

"…This morning." Roger sighed, half in relief, and half in frustration. Melt had better not start talking to him the way he did most people, or else he'd go crazy!

"Oh, well, Dribe said he hadn't seen you leave your house since we, uh, fought. I just wanted to make sure you had plenty of food…" Melt watched him open the sack and pull out various food items, from berries to bread to sweets. His confusion only grew at the odd gesture.

"I bought food at night, right before the shops closed, so you wouldn't see me. That was your wish after all…" Roger let out an aggravated groan and resisted the urge to lob an apple at his friend's head. He settled for plopping into a chair at the table and shaking his head.

"Yah idiot…" Judging by the look on Melt's face, he wasn't helping. He was no good at this… "I mean, I wasn't thinkin' when I said all those things… You've known me long enough to know I do really dumb things sometimes…" Melt finally relented and sat down across from Roger, picking up one of the little cakes he'd bought and opening it. If they were going to have such a serious discussion…he was going to have chocolate. Mature or not, he _was_ only twelve…

"All right, so you admit that you were out of line saying such things… It hardly changes anything if you really feel that way though. I wasn't just asking that question hypothetically you know. If I make you that uncomfortable—"

"No!" Roger blurted out, his face flushing when Melt gazed at him inquisitively. He was a man though, no matter what Lucien said, and he couldn't back down now… "Like I said, I wasn't thinkin' when I said that. I don't really feel that way, I was just mad that they didn't take me with them… It was so exciting fightin' monsters and bad guys with them, and now I'm stuck here again…" Melt took a bite of the cake as he pondered his words. He'd never expected to tell Roger any of his thoughts on the matter, but really, what did he have left to lose?

"I'm glad they didn't take you with them." Roger's eyes widened in shock and his lips twitched downward in a frown, but he didn't interrupt. "It was dangerous, much more so than anything Lezard could come up with. I don't like the idea of you getting hurt, possibly even killed, without me knowing it until it's too late to help. By leaving you here, I won't have to worry, and as selfish as it may sound, I don't want you ever to leave me again. I was miserable while you were gone. Ask Dribe; he kept asking why I was so upset…"

"Is it…" Melt calmly took another bite of his cake as Roger struggled with his words, his face flushed once again. "Is it cuz you like me?" Melt nodded, and with a final bite, his cake was gone.

"Yes, you _could_ put it that way. In reality, I love you. I have for over two years…" He paused and gestured to the goggles strapped around his hat. "Remember when you gave these to me?" Roger nodded, a bit in shock hearing the word _love_. Someone _really_ loved him…?

"Y-yeah. We were out on an adventure and some monster got some gas in your eyes and they got infected, so I got you the goggles so you wouldn't get hurt again. So… You love me cuz I didn't want you to go blind? Cuz no one wanted _that_ ya know!" Melt shook his head, a smile on his face. Roger was just so adorable sometimes…

"No… I turned ten that year. My people gain boosts in their abilities every five years. That year, my mind was able to tap into a higher level of knowledge…I was able to sense more about myself and the people around me. With that simple gesture of concern, I realized that the feelings I harbored for you were stronger than mere friendship. Sometimes though…" He paused, his smile slipping and his eyes filling with conflict. "Sometimes I wish it hadn't happened though. I know I would have realized it eventually, but it's obvious that you prefer the company of females. I could have gone a few more years without ever knowing, without any heartache…"

"Without…heartache…?" Roger wouldn't deny that he was confused. Melt was the only one he'd readily admit could stump him without effort. But this time, he knew he had to try to understand, for Melt's sake. "So… You're saying that you love me, and it hurts because you don't think I'll ever love you back, right?"

"Verily so," he confirmed with a nod. "You desire that woman Nel, do you not? She must be in one of the Aquarian towns you know. You could probably find her if you went looking…" Roger didn't say anything for a while, and Melt could see the confusion written on his face, though he wasn't sure _why_. He'd only spoken the truth, hadn't he?

"You said you love me… So why do ya want me to go out and find Nel? I thought you wanted me to stay in Surferio?" Melt's smile returned to his face, though it was tinged with sadness.

"I just want you to be happy Roger. That's really all I've ever wanted. If I weren't so selfish, you wouldn't even know how I feel for you… I'm sorry…" Rather than reply right away, Roger got up from his seat, walked over to Melt…and whacked him upside the head.

"Don't be stupid! Even though I wanted to go, I always planned on coming back in the end. I could never leave you guys alone! How could I be happy if I lost everyone I care about? And yeah, Nel's pretty, but it's not like I was in love with her or nothin'. She didn't like me all that much anyway. She musta thought she was too mature for me or something…" He pause mid-rant, gazing down at Melt, dark brown eyes meeting bright yellow. "You're a lot more mature than me too, but you don't look down at me… You really _do_ love me, don't ya?"

"Of course I do. Why would I lie about something so serious?" Roger half-shrugged, shaking his head slowly.

"Nah you wouldn't… It's just hard to believe anyone would care about _me_…" Melt did as his friend had earlier and stood up. He was a few inches taller than Roger, but he never once broke eye contact. He took a tentative step forward, and when Roger didn't move, he took one more. They were almost touching…

"Why? You're brave, loyal, kind… And, in my opinion at least, very attractive…" Roger blushed at the words, but otherwise, he did nothing. Taking this as a good sign, Melt continued. "You say that you would have returned… So then, you _are_ happy here… That's encouraging. Now, the question is, could you ever love me?"

After that, things happened so quickly that neither was sure exactly who had prompted it. Melt's hand was on Roger's shoulder, and Roger was stepping closer, then their faces were so close they could feel the other's breath on their faces… And then… There was a soft press of their lips—clumsy and short. But it was both of their first kisses, and it left them blushing and their hearts pounding. Melt looked nervous, but hopeful. Roger laughed nervously, and then grinned widely. That was all it took for all of the older boy's fears to melt away. In that one moment, his years of apprehension were all worthwhile.

"Yeah… I think that I could… Is it okay if we just try this, even if I'm not really sure…?" Melt smiled sincerely and took Roger into his arms, holding him close. He could feel a heartbeat, though he wasn't sure if it was Roger's, his own, or a combination of both. He supposed it didn't matter. Right then, nothing mattered but the warmth he felt in his very soul, all brought upon by the boy he held.

"That is acceptable. I don't expect you to understand such things until you're ready. Just go along with what feels right for now." Roger nodded in the embrace, feeling warm and secure. He'd never really thought that Melt could make him feel this way, but now… He couldn't understand why it had never crossed his mind before. He _did_ feel differently for Melt than he did for Dribe or anyone else. Was that love? He honestly wasn't sure, but he hoped it was. He wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life with him after all.

'_Do what feels right, huh? Well, this feels pretty right to me…_'

* * *

A week later, things were more or less exactly the way they'd been before Melt and Roger had fought. They went out on adventures with Dribe, they explored as far as they dared to go outside of the Sanmite Republic, Roger had Real Man Contests against Lucien while the others watched… And that particular day, it was the latter that was going on. 

"Okay, last week I beat ya three times, and two more the week before. Are ya gonna step up and be a man or am I gonna have another easy win?" Melt watched over Roger carefully as Lucien ran his mouth—something at which he was _very_ good. The way his eyes narrowed and his lips frowned… It was endearing, certainly. Alas, he and Roger hadn't gotten much time to themselves since that first day. A few times, they'd sneak off and talk or hug…but they hadn't even shared another kiss.

Melt knew he could be patient, but that didn't mean he had to _like_ it. He'd always hated these idiotic contests and would have preferred spending the time alone together, but he stayed quiet and put up with it for Roger's sake. He just hoped Roger would want to get their relationship out in the open soon. It was nothing short of frustrating having to stand there and pretend they were nothing but friends. After two years of looking and not touching, he finally had Roger and Roger didn't want to tell anyone. He'd said something about it being an adventure to keep it a secret, but Melt wasn't fooled for a second. He was afraid of what Lucien and Lezard would think, he just _knew_ it.

And, quite frankly, it upset him.

"Hey, I won the contest earlier this week! I was just distracted before, that's all!" Lucien sneered, obviously not finding it to be a worthy excuse.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly had you so distracted?" Roger opened his mouth to reply—Melt wondered what his excuse would be—but he was too late.

"It's not a matter of _what_; it's more a matter of _who_, isn't it?" Roger looked uncomfortable at the accusation, while Melt glared. It went unnoticed by everyone but the person it was meant for; Lezard looked right at him and smirked.

The two had never gotten along since the day they met. Lezard had been the one to tell everyone that he was too weird to be friends with, though luckily, only his older brother and Vellion had listened to him. Still, Melt had tried to be nice… But when his parents had been killed when he was nine and Lezard had the audacity to insinuate it had somehow been _his_ fault, because the gods were punishing them for bringing a creature such as him into the world… Well, that was inexcusable. A childish taunt or not, Melt had sworn to never forgive him.

"Ah, w-whaddayah talkin' about?" Lezard's smirk only deepened at the act of innocence. Melt wondered how much he knew… On one hand, he liked to pretend that he knew a lot more than he really did, but on the other, he _did_ slink around a lot, spying on anyone who might provide him with interesting blackmail material. As much as he knew he shouldn't, Melt hoped he'd seen them together, if only so their secret would be blown all the sooner.

"Don't play dumb. It was _obvious_ that you were fighting with your _foolish_ friend over there." There was a heavy emphasis on 'foolish' and an accompanying gesture in Melt's direction that caused Roger to turn a glare upon the other boy as well. Roger might not have known everything that was going on between the two, but Melt was his best friend _and_ his boyfriend, and Lezard's comments were _anything_ but welcome.

"Yeah, so what? He's my friend—I can be worried about him if I wanna!" The look on Lezard's face said it all before he could open his mouth—_he knew_. The question now was, would he blurt it out or milk it for all it was worth? Knowing Lezard as well as he did, Melt could already guess the answer.

"Your friend, yes, you two are very _friendly_, aren't you?" The implications behind his words were enough that even the three not involved with the conversation raised their eyebrows. Roger stomped his foot on the ground, shouting loudly enough to get everyone attention. Once he had it, he took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Look, let's just hear what this new contest is, huh? I don't wanna waste time with some stupid word games…" At that, Lucien perked up, all thoughts of his younger brother's odd words leaving his mind.

"Hey, that's right, the Real Man Contest! All right, listen up. This contest will _really_ see who's the real man!" Melt rolled his eyes at this part. Lucien _always_ said that, and they never did decide who the '_real man_' was. "Lezard gave me the idea last night—" Another fact that hardly surprised Melt. "—and what we do is go up to the cave before the Mosel Dunes. There are mages in there I hear… So, the challenge is, whoever can snatch one of the brooms they ride around on from 'em first and bring it back here first wins, got it?"

Melt was perplexed as the plot's description came to a close. What could Lezard be thinking? Roger had already traveled through those caves and fought those mages when he was traveling with that group of heroes. Lucien didn't stand a chance though, so why…?

His eyes widened as it hit him. That…that…_jerk_.

"All right, I'll—"

"No." Five heads turned towards Melt, four surprised and one smug. Melt rarely said _anything_ during Real Man Contests. Roger looked more confused than any of them.

"Whaddayah mean, _no_? No _what_?" Rather than answer his boyfriend, he turned his attention directly towards his tormentor, wishing he could wipe that haughty look clean off his face.

"Why the broom?" Lezard chuckled, not even pretended that he was innocent of what Melt was silently accusing him.

"Why? What a foolish question! _Everyone_ knows that _anyone_ who fights with a broom is nothing but trouble. Wouldn't you agree?" Melt and his family had moved to Surferio when he was five, so for seven years—_seven years_—he'd put up with Lezard's taunts and accusations quietly. He was just about to his breaking point though. A stormy look on his face, Melt lifted up his broom and pointed it towards the other boy.

"I suggest you hold your tongue, lest you lose it. I no longer care to listen to your idiotic allegations." To anyone else, Lezard would have appeared just as self-righteous as before, but Melt knew better. His aura was nervous; he knew he'd gone too far, but his arrogance wouldn't allow him to back down. Melt was ready for him.

"W-what are you gonna do? Kill me? Haven't you gotten your fill of that yet?" The air was filled hostility; there was an almost electrical force pulsing around them. Lezard did well to look calm, though the others didn't fare quite as well. Dribe and Vellion were shivering, Lucien's tail was twitching wildly, Roger looked more confused than he ever had in his life, and Melt…well, that was why Roger was confused. Never before had he seen his friend look so…furious.

"_That_. _Wasn't_. _My_. _Fault_." The air got thicker by the moment, and even Lezard looked ready to run any second. Luckily, Roger was just brave—or perhaps crazy—enough to step in front of Melt and push his broom down. Immediately, the tension lessened, but it didn't disappear. If anything, this was the eye of the storm.

"Hey, look, I dunno what you guys are fightin' about, but knock it off! Let's just get this contest over with and—"

"No!" Melt exclaimed, an air of finality in his voice. "You can't do it! I won't allow you to partake in such idiocy!"

Had Roger taken the time to assess the situation, he would have seen all of the red flags. There was a hint of desperation in his friend's voice, and everything that Lezard had said seemed highly suspicious. Something was definitely out of place… But he was a twelve-year-old boy, and as most boys his age, he didn't like being told what to do, no matter who it was or what the reasons. So rather than yield to Melt, he crossed his arms defiantly and glared.

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not my mother!" Silence reigned—no one dared to say anything. Melt's eyes were almost glowing with anger, a sight that Roger didn't think he'd _ever_ get used to. He knew that he'd screwed up the moment he'd finished, but he didn't get a chance to apologize as the taller boy spoke up, his voice soft and dangerous.

"You are far too ignorant for your own good sometimes. Next time, think before you speak—it will do you good." With that, he turned on his heel and quickly slipped off. No one knew what to do for a good minute; they simply stood there, processing the events that had just transpired…

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he won't come back this time." That was it—Roger was pissed at himself, Melt, the entire situation…but _especially_ at Lezard. Whatever all of this was about, _he'd_ started it. Roger was going to end it though, and a punch to the nose seemed like a _wonderful_ idea.

"Don't you _ever_ say that again, ya understand?! It's all your fault he got mad and left!" Lezard managed to chuckle despite the fact that he was on the ground, clutching his bloody nose. Roger was strong despite being so small, he'd give him that.

"Me? Oh, _I_ only put the wheels in motion. It was _you_ who upset your little _boyfriend_ enough to make him run off. Isn't that right?" The other three humanoids gasped at the news, but Roger was too upset to keep up the act. Lezard was right—it was him and his pride that was the last proverbial straw. Now wasn't the time to care about appearances.

"Whatever, I don't have time to deal with you right now. I gotta find Melt…" He turned and took off in the direction the other boy had run off in, only to stop a few feet away and turn back to face them. "And you're right, he _is_ my boyfriend. Jealous, Lezard?" He continued on, not waiting to see the looks of shock—or resentment in one case—on their faces. Right now only one thing mattered—finding Melt as soon as possible.

* * *

It took Roger two hours before he determined that Melt was nowhere in Surferio. Or even the immediate surrounding areas for that matter. He knew he had to be somewhere though, and after he stopped and really thought about it, he mentally kicked himself and immediately took off towards the Aquatic Garden. They'd found a shortcut there a few years back that didn't require going through Peterny, and Melt had always loved exploring there, with its odd ruins and numerous puzzles. And sure enough, he found Melt sitting near the entrance, his broom in the grass beside him. 

"I thought you might be inside…" It was disconcerting when Melt refused to look at him, but he wasn't particularly surprised either.

"…I wanted you to find me." '_It took you long enough_,' was left unsaid, but painfully obvious.

"O-oh…" He hesitantly walked closer, and when he was met with no objections, he sat down beside him. "I guess sayin' sorry ain't gonna cut it, huh?"

"…No." Well, it had been worth a shot.

"Nah, didn't think so… I, uh, am though. Sorry, I mean. I dunno what Lezard was talkin' about, but I shoulda listened to you…" Melt finally turned to look at him, a satisfied expression on his face. His eyes, however, still held pain. It was a look the Menodix boy hated, one he hadn't seen since… "What he was saying… It had to do with your parents somehow, didn't it?"

"…Very perceptive of you. I'm impressed." There was a short silence, where Melt stared off into space, and Roger wondered what he could possibly do to make him feel better. He knew it wasn't much, but… Melt snapped out of his reverie as a small, warm hand slipped into his own. He smiled slightly and squeezed it gently. "You know that my parents died three years ago when our house burnt down."

"Yeah," Roger confirmed with an accompanying nod. "Why would Lezard say it was your fault though? It's not like _you_ caused the fire. Papa said a fallen candle caused the accident."

"Yes, an accident…" Involuntarily, his grip on Roger's hand tightened. "It was indeed an accident; however, it wasn't caused by a candle… What I am about to tell you, no one else knows but the stars themselves. Can you keep this secret?" Roger nodded, excited about getting to hear something that was obviously _extremely_ important.

"Sure! I won't tell a soul, I _promise_!" Melt gave a firm nod and took a deep breath. He was about to tell his biggest secrets… Though, he was glad that Roger was the one with who he could trust them.

"I've already told you that every five years, my people gain great boosts of power. On my fifth birthday, shortly before we moved to Surferio, not only did I gain my first abilities to tap into the powers of the cosmos, but I also learned my clan's other talents." He paused and lifted his free hand. Moments later, a small flame appeared, hovering a few centimeters above his palm. Roger, to his credit, took it quite well and managed only to let a small gasp escape. "We can use a magic similar to that of runology, though our powers are granted from the heavens rather than runes inscribed on our bodies. My parents each had an element at their command as well—wind for my mother, while my father also had fire. No one else in town knows, except for Lezard. He might not believe in my other powers, but he found me practicing in Sanmite Steppes when we were seven, so he had no choice but to believe it. It only caused him to dislike me more though. I suppose he never told anyone due to the mental anguish he could inflict upon me otherwise…"

"Where does your broom fit in?" Roger questioned, having recovered from the shock surprisingly easily. After all he'd seen lately… "I've never seen you use it before. Can you fly on it or something?" Melt chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"No. My parents gave it to me after my powers first manifested. I can use it as a staff and focus my magical energy through it. The bristles are specially designed so they won't burn. I never use it though. I'm…frightened by it. Lezard doesn't know for certain, but he guessed the cause of my parents' death easily enough. I have rarely tapped into my powers since that day."

Another pause, and Roger squeezed his hand in reassurance. The look in his eyes said everything—_Whatever happened, I won't leave you. Trust me_. Resolved, Melt continued.

"I knew I wasn't to use my magical powers within confined spaces. It was far too dangerous while I lacked the experience to control them properly. I was foolish though… I wouldn't use my powers in anyone's presence, yet I desired to prove myself to you and the others. I especially wanted to show Lezard that he had no control over me. I…I invoked my powers within my bedroom, not intending for anything more than a small spark that I could manipulate…

"…There was an inferno less than ten seconds later. My parents…they must have known that my disobedience had caused the blaze, and yet, they still called for me to leave and reach safety. I was too afraid to move though. The flames were everywhere—I was paralyzed. They could have left me there, saved themselves, but they went further into the flames and pulled me out. The fire spread too quickly though. The roof was caving and there was so much smoke…" Melt's eyes were glazed and his voice shook more and more with each passing word. Everything suddenly became clear to Roger—all of Melt's actions and Lezard's words made perfect sense. "A beam broke loose. They pushed me out of the way to save my life. I wanted to stay and try to save them, somehow, but I was terrified and selfishly ran out while they burned to death. Perhaps Lezard was right; maybe it _was_ my fault. _ I_ should have died, not them. I—"

Roger couldn't take it anymore. A world without Melt just…didn't seem possible. He'd been there almost as long as he could remember. And he could still remember the night in question too. The blazing house had lit up all of Surferio. His family had taken Melt in for a few days before Louise the Diviner let him stay with her. Even back then, he hadn't seemed as guilt-ridden as he did now. Either Lezard had hit a nerve earlier, or he'd been repressing this for years. Either way, he couldn't let him keep talking like that, so he shut him up the first way that popped into his mind—he leaned forward and captured Melt's lips in a kiss.

It was only their second kiss, and though still far from perfect, it was still far less awkward than the first had been. Roger made a personal promise to get more practice in the near future, no matter who was around to see them. Melt, though surprised, quickly recovered and eagerly responded. Chapped lips moved against far softer ones, trying to memorize every little groove… When they finally parted, panting slightly, Roger scooted closer and forced his way into Melt's lap. Instinctively, the older boy drew his arms around him, pulling him closer.

"Don't ever say that again, ya hear me?" he chided gently, but with conviction. "It wasn't like you did it on purpose or nothin', and they wouldn't have saved you if they didn't want you to live. They would want you to get stronger and learn to control your powers instead of pretendin' they don't exist. You should make 'em proud and prove Lezard wrong, not hide who you are." He reached up and took a lock of Melt's long brown hair between his nimble fingers, liking the coarse feeling against his sensitive digits. "'Sides… That's a really cool power, and I'd really like it if you fought beside me on our adventures. Your fire and my axe…we'd be unbeatable!"

Melt wondered how he'd ever gotten so lucky. Roger, somehow, always said _just_ what he needed to hear in the end. And he was right too—it was time to stop hiding. The citizens of Surferio already found him bizarre; what difference would it make if they had one more reason? Well, two more probably…

"The others… They know about us, don't they? Surely, Lezard must have said something after I left."

"Yeah," Roger replied, his tone nonchalant, "he called you my boyfriend. I told him he was right and asked if he was jealous. You shoulda seen his face! It was so funny!" Melt gazed down at the grinning boy in his lap for a few moments before smiling himself. It seemed that Roger wasn't going to hide who he was anymore either. It certainly had been a productive day.

"Perhaps he's jealous that our love is written in the stars." He gestured up, and sure enough, twilight was setting in and the first stars were beginning to dot the sky.

"Our love is written in the stars?" Roger asked, his tone conveying his wonderment. Melt let out a noise of affirmation and Roger sighed contently, leaning his head against Melt's chest and hearing his steady heartbeat. It was so soothing...

Neither could tell how long they stayed out there, content with silence so long as they could be together. Soon, twilight turned to dusk, and dusk faded to the starry night sky. Roger believed Melt when he said their love was up there…he did see all and know all after all. Besides, there was really nowhere he'd rather be then right there, within Melt's warm embrace while the rest of the world passed them by.

"I love you Roger…" The words were murmured through the silence as Melt drifted off, the soft moonlight bathing their bodies a pale yellow. It was a beautiful night, but in Roger's opinion, one thing made it even lovelier…

"…I love you too Melt."

Though he couldn't see it, a smile appeared on the slumbering boy's face.


	4. Nel, Grace

Real Love—Grace

by taitofan

Rated PG for het

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Ocean 3, the four optional characters would have been mandatory, Sophia would have pulled an Aerith, Melt would have done more, and AlbelxFayt would have been canon. None of that happened, and thus, I don't own it.

Author's notes: Ah, the first het chapter! There'll only be one more, so I hope het fans like it. Granted, it's _very_ short… But I can only write such an introspective fic for so long. Ah well. Anyway, I really like Roger's canon crush, so I play with that here. And there's some yaoi hints for other couples if you squint. Yes, one is the same couple I've hinted at in the past two chapters, so sue me. I really just need to write them their own fic… Oh, back on this fic…yaoi next time, and probably humor, so stay tuned!

10whores prompt: 07. grace

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 03-10-07

* * *

Nel Zelpher was very graceful if you took the time to look at her.

Roger looked at Nel _a lot_. Ever since he'd been rescued from the bandits in Duggus Forest, the deadly Crimson Blade captain had been all he could think about. Was this the love that Lucien had bragged about? The thing he could only feel once he was a real man? If so, he certainly _was_ a man, because what he felt for Nel was unlike any feeling he'd ever had. And since he'd never been in love before…

Nel was beautiful—that was the first thing Roger noticed about her. Her short red hair, bright purple eyes, _those clothes_… Could a boy just staring puberty be blamed? Her voice was next. It wasn't highly pitched like a lot of girls he knew, but it was still feminine and very pretty. Her personality was interesting too. She was serious about her duties to Aquaria, but she was still loyal to her friends. And unlike certain blond lummoxes he knew, she hadn't pitched a fit when he'd joined them the first time, nor when he'd joined up again in Surferio. She was so nice to him, and they fought _so well_ together.

Her fighting…that's what he was drawn to the most. She was fast, always going right for the kill. His attacks had an execution lag, but she always kept them busy while he prepared. And he hadn't missed the fact that she always healed him first. Healing was something he needed a lot of too… He found himself watching her grace and beauty as she ran around the battlefield with her daggers drawn so much that he often was hit by attacks he'd otherwise dodge with ease. She never chastised him though, even when the other yelled at him to pay more attention to the battle. No, she just smiled that mysterious smile of hers after the fighting was done and told him that he'd done well…

And now, back in Surferio again after traveling all over the continent with Nel and the others for months, he missed her horribly. Lucien and Lezard teased him mercilessly about his distraction after every Real Man Contest. Dribe was always too busy yelling at Lucien to leave his "brother" alone to really notice, but nothing escaped Melt.

"You miss that woman." It wasn't a question, but Roger nodded anyway. "Then you shall be very pleased tomorrow." The confused Menodix boy tried to ask what he meant, but at that moment Lezard said something to his rival and all hope was lost. When those two got started, just like Lucian and Dribe, there was no stopping them. He supposed he'd just have to wait until the next day…

* * *

Roger awoke to the sound of voices that belonged neither to his parents nor to his friends. Well, not his friends in Surferio at any rate. No, those voices belonged to…

He quickly threw back his blankets and, still in his pajamas, he rushed out of his bedroom. The sight he was met with made him grin. He'd have to find Melt later and thank him for the warning.

"Fayt, Nel, everyone! Great to see ya!" Cliff muttered something about being chopped liver, but Roger ignored him. He was too busy wondering how Nel got even prettier in just the few weeks since they'd parted.

"Hey Roger," Fayt spoke up, smiling down at the boy, which Roger readily returned seeing as Fayt was the only one besides Nel who was nice to him. "We just got back from…well, it's a long story. To get to the point, do you want to come with us? It'll be dangerous, but it'll save the universe."

Roger didn't even need to know what they were going to do; he would find that out later. Now he only knew one thing—Nel was going, so he was going too.

"Sure, I wanna go too! Anything to help! Woohoo, another adventure!" He noticed then, out of the corner of his eye, the others' reactions. Cliff looked annoyed, Maria looked bored, Fayt was smiling at his enthusiasm, a girl he hadn't met was staring at him as if she'd never seen a humanoid before, and Nel…

She nodded to him curtly before looking away, but Roger knew that she understood. She had to; she was too smart to miss it. And she didn't mind…

It looked like he'd be watching is graceful maiden for quite some time to come.


	5. Albel, Sake

Real Love—Sake

by taitofan

Rated hard PG-13/lite R for yaoi, shota, and underage drinking

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Ocean 3, the four optional characters would have been mandatory, Adray would be optional, Melt and Lezard would be sweet sweet lovers, and the other Surferio Kids would have done way more. As you can see, I don't own it.

Author's notes: I…I'm gonna burn for this chapter, I have no doubt about it. Hopefully, you'll all enjoy my one-way ticket to eternal damnation. I also must admit right now that I know jack about alcohol or getting drunk, so if I got some parts wrong while searching for these things—yes, I did research on sake and being drunk, so sue me—please tell me. Mainly, I don't know how it would interact with Roger's body weight… Oh well. This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Jamarie! Yes, she gets two chapter's worth of dedications, cause she's just that awesome. Go read _Someday My Prince Will Come_ if you still haven't. It has this couple in it too. And it's rockin' of course.

10 whores prompt: 02. sake

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 04-05-07

* * *

Roger was bored.

When Roger was bored, bad things tended to happen. It wasn't that he meant to cause trouble—_usually_ at least—but trouble seemed for follow him wherever he went regardless. And seeing as today they were in Peterny and he was left alone… It was almost inevitable that Roger would find some mess to get himself into. But at least then he wouldn't be bored.

He wasted no time and immediately went to the east side of town, the side Fayt had explicitly told him _not_ to go to. After all, Fayt wasn't his father, and he knew how grown-ups worked. They always told you _not_ to do the things that would be the most fun. Fayt was nice, but he never wanted to have any fun… Surely, there must be _something_ on that side of town worth seeing, right?

Walking down the cobbled path, it didn't take the boy long to figure out why Fayt hadn't wanted him over there. Thugs, bandits, members of the Moonshadow Clan, and other shady looking characters all roamed the streets and alleys. This was obviously where the bustling commerce town held its not-so-respectable businesses… But he wasn't scared, oh no. He was a man darn it, a Real Man! Some punks didn't scare him!

"Hey little man, what are you doing so far from home? Looking for a little fun?" Roger turned towards the voice, only to instantly recoil. An older woman, probably close to fifty, was smiling at him very strangely. She wore a red dress about three sizes to small, had ratty brown hair up in a loose bun about to fall down, had half a mouth full of rotten teeth, and wore more makeup on her wrinkly face than he'd ever seen in his entire life. Whatever she had in mind for _fun_—and naïve or not, he had a pretty good idea—he didn't want to stick around to find out. Therefore, he quickly spun around, darted down the street, and entered the first public building he saw.

He still hadn't been scared though. Really.

After a few moments, long enough to convince himself she wasn't going to follow him, Roger looked around his safe haven. It was…a tavern. A tavern full of more thugs than he'd seen on the street even. Part of his mind demanded he leave right away, and he was honestly about to, all pretenses be damned, when he saw a familiar flash of purple. Suddenly, all thoughts of leaving fled his mind. If there was ever one constant source of entertainment, Albel Nox was it.

"Hey Albel! What'cha doin'?" Albel did a good job of masking his annoyance when his previously quiet little bubble was very loudly popped by a little Menodix worm yelling in his ear. He glared as Roger sat across from him at the small table, but the boy's grin only widened. Oh, it was going to be a _long_ day…

"I _was_ enjoying myself as much as humanly possible in this miserable scum-filled hellhole, but now I seem to have a bratty little pest thinking that I'm his playmate. Which, I might add, is a horrible misconception. Now I'm about three seconds away from making a fur hat. And yourself?" The last part was, of course, dripping with sarcasm. He knew it, and Roger did too. The difference was that Roger really didn't care. He was bored after all, and he wasn't about to go back out where that creepy woman was by himself…

"I'm bored—"

"And an idiot."

"—and there was some weird old lady outside who asked if I wanted to have fun. So I came in here and saw you. Hey, what'cha drinkin'?" The Glyphian swordsman didn't even have time to fully process the fact that a prostitute had actually come onto a little boy, because at the moment, Roger shot forward, grabbed his small saucer-like cup, and downed it in one gulp.

Albel openly smirked when the boy immediately started coughing from the alcohol that he'd just shot back. That would teach him.

"It's sake. And it's not for foolish children like _you_. Now go away." But obviously, that was too easy. Albel knew it would be, and thus he wasn't surprised when Roger gave him a defiant look and grabbed the ceramic flask on the table. Albel almost told him that shallow cups were used for a reason, but then he imagined little Roger, drunk out of his mind… He didn't say a word as the boy put the flask to his lips and gulped the clear liquid down. No doubt it was burning his throat, but Albel couldn't bring himself to care. He waited silently as the humanoid slammed the flask on the table, breathing heavily.

"S-see? Told ya I could do it," he said proudly in between his panting. "Guess I'm not such a _foolish child_ after all, huh?"

"Quite the opposite," Albel drawled, a nasty smirk on his face as he threw some fol on the table and got to his feet. "You're _extremely_ foolish, and you _will_ regret this soon enough. Now let's go. I don't want to be seen with you in public once that kicks in."

Roger normally would have protested, but the fact that Albel actually _wanted_ him to follow and not leave him alone stunned him enough to make him compliant. He practically had to run to keep up with Albel's long strides, but he managed until they reached the west side of town. He heard Albel mutter something about "that damned inn" and "where the hell is it again?" but by that point, Roger found it hard to focus his attention on much. His head felt odd…floaty. He'd never felt that way before…but it was better than the burn in his throat at least.

As Albel looked up and down the street, searching for the inn, Roger watched Albel. More specifically, he watched Albel's hair wraps swishing around as he moved his head back and forth. In a normal state of mind, Roger would have ignored it, if he'd even noticed it in the first place. Now, however, he was quickly becoming very, _very_ drunk, and those wraps suddenly looked like the most fun things in the _entire world_.

"Worthless excuse for a town… Where is—ah!" Albel, for a brief, terrifying moment, honestly thought that his hair was going to be yanked right from his scalp. Sixty-six pounds of humanoid brat—plus about ten more with armor and that axe strapped to his back—were currently using his hair as a rope. And dammit, it _hurt_! "Let go you little maggot!"

Roger giggled as he tried to climb up Albel's back, which proved difficult as soon as the Glyphian man began moving erratically to throw him off. Very soon, a decent sized crowd had gathered before them, whispering about the strange sight. Thoroughly frustrated with this turn of events, Albel growled loudly and whipped around with enough force to finally knock the Menodix boy off. Roger landed on the street, face flushed and still giggling. Albel momentarily ignored both him and the painful sting in this scalp and turned to the whispering crowd. At the deadly look on his face, they quickly shut up.

"Where. Is. The. Inn?" In perfect unison, the entire crowd pointed him in the right direction. Without another word, Albel scooped up the drunk boy with his good arm and got the hell out of there.

* * *

Albel unceremoniously threw Roger on the bed he'd be using that night before falling back upon his own and growling. Why had he thought this would be amusing again? Oh yes, he'd thought the boy would make a fool of _himself_, not of Albel.

Somewhere between the street and the check-in counter in the inn, Roger had started to squirm. The only way Albel could get a good grip on him without putting him down and having him potentially run off had been to carry him with both arms, much like grooms carried their brides. Having a flushed and giggly boy in his arms while he'd told the young woman at the counter that he was with Nel Zelpher's party and needed a key to a room for the boy and himself had hardly looked good. Not that he cared what that Aquarian scum thought, but _still_…

He really wished that he could have just put them in different rooms, but there was no way he was risking that brat getting loose and doing anything that could embarrass him more. Who knew what he might say or do…? And if any of the others found out he'd let a _child_ drink, they'd never shut up about it. Putting up with the brat for one night would be far better in the long run than listening to them for the entire trip to stop the Creator. In the morning, he'd just have to make sure he convinced the brat to keep his mouth shut about it…

"_Allllbelllll_…" Said man glanced at Roger, sending him a glare that was either unnoticed or outright ignored—at this point, he wasn't sure which was more likely. "I'm still bored!"

"Then go to sleep," Albel said shortly, closing his eyes and hoping that the day would be over with soon. At least the brat was too short to reach the lock's latch and get out. Maybe he could just sleep until it was over…

"No, I wanna play a game." Albel probably could have ignored that without any problems if it hadn't been for the fact that Roger had very quickly and very quietly crossed for his bed to Albel's and had just hopped on his stomach. And his tail was currently swishing over his…yes. It was quite hard to ignore him at the moment indeed.

"I don't play games, worm." Roger frowned momentarily before giggling again.

"Your eyes look like big red cherries, and your hair looks like pudding!" Albel opened his mouth to tell Roger that both he and his random comment were imbecilic, but he never got the chance. Roger decided, through his hazy mind, that now would be the perfect time to clumsily press his lips to the older man's.

There was something highly surreal about the entire situation. He, Albel the Wicked, was being kissed by a _twelve-year-old Menodix boy_. There was so much wrong with it all that he didn't even know where to start. His race, his gender, the fact that he was three feet taller and twelve years older and yet _he_ was the one being kissed, not doing the kissing. He knew that the best course of action would be to push Roger off him, knock him out, and wait until he was sober and thinking straight in the morning. However, it felt vaguely pleasant, and that damned tail was _still_ rubbing against him, and…

And he wasn't about to be shown up by a _child_.

Roger's helmet clattered to the ground as Albel sat up and pushed the boy away just long enough to shove him back onto his bed and claim the boy's lips as his own. Roger let out a pleased moan as Albel's tongue forced its way into his mouth. He'd never been kissed before, nor had he ever had the desire to, but this was far nicer than he'd imagined. It was fun trying to mimic Albel's actions, from his tongue to his roaming hands. He didn't protest when Albel unhooked the buckles to his armor and broke the kiss long enough to take them off and toss them to the ground, nor when his shirt followed suit.

Albel wasn't the drunk one, but he felt rather lightheaded as he kissed his way down Roger's smooth chest. Such young, virgin flesh… Was he really about to make this innocent, _intoxicated_ boy his? …Yes, yes he was. He didn't care if it was wrong on multiple levels—he wanted Roger and by gods, he'd have him!

"Hmm, Albel, quit teasin' me and make me a man already!" …And it looked like Roger didn't have any qualms with his plans either. Hopefully he'd keep that attitude when he was sober… Oh well, he had permission, so there was no use in thinking about that now.

Albel paused to slip his own shirt off and fling it across the room, then lowered himself back down to claim the boy's lips again. His good hand ran though Roger's hair, then lingered at his furry ear. He tried scratching behind it like a cat and was rewarded with another moan. Such pretty sounds the boy made… They were more intoxicating than the sake Roger had drank. He wanted more, _needed_ more… His gauntlet picked at the tie on Roger's pants, having decided that they were far too overdressed. The pants went, then Albel's sarong, their boots, Albel's leggings and glove, Roger's socks…_everything_ until they were left with their undergarments and Albel's gauntlet.

"Hmmm, Albel," Roger moaned, "you're so pretty…" Though '_pretty_' was _hardly_ the word Albel would use to describe his looks, he let it go and explored the rest of Roger's petite body with his hand and tongue. He flicked a small pink nipple with his tongue, earning him another of those delicious sounds. Then… "W-why don't ya take off that claw?"

Albel immediately ceased all activity. None of his partners had ever said anything about his gauntlet before. Hell, no one _period_ had. He was about to tell the boy to shut up and stop thinking, but he stopped. Why _didn't_ he? It wasn't like Roger would be able to remember what he saw in the morning anyway… And he'd never had sex with it off before—he hadn't even known the names of the young soldiers and street boys who threw themselves at him hoping that sleeping with someone of power would further their own agendas. It wasn't as if he liked Roger anymore than any of them, but at least he could admit that the little virgin aroused him. He supposed there wasn't any harm…

He sat up and loosened a few hidden latches, then slid the metal off his arm and tossed it on the other bed—that wasn't going to be used that night if he had anything to say about it. Then he unraveled the bandages around his arm that kept the gauntlet from rubbing his flesh raw. What was left was a red, scarred appendage—fully functional, but not exactly aesthetically pleasing.

"Does it hurt?" Roger asked, his natural curiosity not hindered by the alcohol.

"Not physically." The boy nodded and said no more, for which Albel was glad. His past was certainly a mood killer after all.

That done, the pair returned to their foreplay. With two hands, Albel was able to tease the boy in two places at once. He smirked as Roger keened for him to get on with it, but he wasn't done. He ran a hand down the smooth flesh, stopping at the hem of Roger's underwear. Roger started to tell him to hurry up again, but his words dissolved into a groan as Albel's hand moved lower. He'd never been touched like this, never even touched _himself_ like this… But oh, he _loved_ it.

"Albel, please, _please_…" He didn't know exactly what he was begging for, but luckily, Albel did. He slipped a finger in the waistband and pulled…

"Hey, Albel, is Roger in there with you?" The loud banging on his door and the voice that accompanied it was like a bucket of cold water being thrown on him. Albel jerked up rigidly, clamping a hand over Roger's mouth so he couldn't give them away. Leingod had such damned _horrid_ timing…

"He's sleeping, so stop that incessant racket before the little fool wakes up." Fayt stopped knocking, but there were no footsteps indicating his departure. Sure enough…

"Sleeping? At dinnertime? That's odd… Well, will you wake him up so we can all eat?" Roger chose that time to start licking Albel's hand, and _oh gods_, how he wished Fayt would leave…

"We already ate. Now leave."

"But—"

"So help me Leingod, if you don't _leave right_ now, I will come out there and carve your tongue out of that miserable mouth of yours. Now _go_." A few silence-filled seconds later, Fayt's footsteps could finally be heard, along with mutterings that sounded suspiciously like "What crawled up his ass and died?" Albel made a mental note to get his revenge on the insolent fool later. Right now, he had more…_urgent_ matters to attend to.

Approximately three point two seconds later, Roger was naked, and the fun began.

* * *

The first thing Roger noticed when he awoke wasn't that he was naked or that he was curled up against an equally naked Albel Nox's chest, oh no, it was that that his head was _killing_ him. He felt nauseous and _so_ thirsty… He gingerly sat up, intending to get some water and maybe find one of the healers in the group, when he noticed that there was something keeping him down… An arm. A really strange looking arm.

"Wha—oh. Oh _right_…" The past night came rushing back to him. Stealing Albel's sake, feeling so giddy afterwards, kissing him, getting absolutely _ravished_ afterwards… Huh, that explained why his butt hurt too.

He reached out and hesitantly touched Albel's scared arm. He wondered if he could get the swordsman to tell him about it…? Probably not—he'd already pushed his luck the night before. He'd be lucky if Albel would even let him stay in the room once he woke up, let alone _talked_ to him. Maybe he'd be best to just get up and—

"Quit squirming brat, I'm trying to sleep." Roger froze. Albel was awake? And not kicking him out? Was he…was he pulling him closer? Was Albel Nox honestly _cuddling_ with him? Would the wonders never cease?

"B-but, Albel, I…" The older man sighed and sat up, though he didn't remove his arms from around Roger's body.

"Let me guess. You're horribly hung over and don't remember a thing from last night, correct?" Roger wanted to shake his head, but the throbbing deterred him. Instead he settled for a little grunt.

"Course I remember last night… But yeah, my head hurts and I need some water. Can I get up?" Roger wasn't the only one to be surprised that morning. Roger remembered what they'd done and wasn't ready to run to one of his pathetic little friends claiming he'd been molested in his vulnerable state?

"Hnn. Well, just don't think this means I like you or anything. You're still a pathetic little worm." He let go of Roger and got out of the bed, then started gathering his clothes. Roger wanted to get up too, but any movement made his vision swim and his nausea flare.

"Argh, I'm never drinkin' again…" Albel actually chuckled at that, and not even _completely_ cruelly.

"We'll see about that…" He had his basic clothes back on, but noticeably no gauntlet as he headed for the door and undid the latch. "Stay here and don't move."

"What—?" Albel turned his head and shot the boy a look that stopped anymore of his question.

"Look out the window, fool—the sun isn't even out yet. We fell asleep while the others were eating dinner. No one else is up now, so I'll get your water. _You_ just keep your mouth shut."

Roger wisely did as he was told.

Albel left the room, leaving the Menodix boy with his thoughts. He couldn't even imagine why Albel of all people had done…_those things_ with him and actually kept him around afterwards. Sure, the only prior experience he had with sex with the books he and Dribe would steal from his parents room and laugh over—Melt always chastised them, but it never stopped him from looking too—but surely they must have been _somewhat_ accurate. He remembered that one book where the soldier took the cook's assistant to his room and in the morning threw her out naked and tossed her clothes in the hall after her. …Roger _still_ didn't know why his mom had those books.

Regardless, Albel hadn't kicked him out, and assuming he came back like he said he would, he wouldn't be leaving either. Did it mean that Albel…? No, that was ridiculous. He didn't care about anyone, especially little kids…

He lifted his gaze from the blankets to the door as it swung open, revealing Albel holding a glass of water. The swordsman shut the door behind himself and locked it. The last thing they needed was an early riser walking in on them while Roger was still naked in bed.

"Here," Albel said shortly, crossing the distance to the bed and thrusting the glass towards Roger, "drink." He did as he was told yet again, wondering why Albel was being so nice to him, and curious as to how long it would last. He figured his luck had just about run out.

The glass drained quickly, and while it helped his throat, his head and stomach were still making him miserable. He opened his mouth to ask Albel how long it would hurt for, but he didn't get the chance as Albel climbed on the bed and put his hands on either side of Roger's head. He flinched, thinking that maybe this was it—he was about to get his head squished like a grape for pushing his luck one too many times—but instead a gentle glow came from Albel's hands. A calm, serene feeling entered Roger's body, draining the aftereffects of his hangover away. He knew this feeling—it was what he'd felt many times in and after battle, but it was usually from Nel, Sophia, Adray, or Fayt.

'_Albel's healing me_.' The thought was strange. Albel had let him drink, slept with him, gotten him water, and now was using healing magic to make him feel better. …Was this all one big dream? If so, he hoped he'd never wake up.

Soon enough, Albel removed his hands, an expression on his face that Roger couldn't quite place. Without a word, the older man walked over to the other bed, picked up the wrapping and gauntlet he'd thrown there the night before and set to putting it back on. Roger watched quietly, his head finally clear and full of curiosity. What to say now…?

"Um, thanks a lot Albel." Whether he was thanking him for the healing, putting up with him while he was drunk, or for what happened the night before, neither of them was sure. Perhaps it was all three.

"Bah, I don't need your foolish thanks…"

The small smile on his face said otherwise.

* * *

"We'll be in Aquaria later today," Nel announced as they left Peterny. "The Queen wants to see us one last time before we leave for our final battle. We'll stay the night, then start out for the Mosel Dunes in the morning. All right?" A chorus of assents sounded out, but none were overly enthusiastic. After all, they'd be headed for the Creator's space in just over twenty-four hours… On top of that, one boy couldn't stop thinking about a certain someone…

Roger fell from his usual place beside Peppita—who was too busy telling a bewildered Adray about the circus to notice him leave—and eventually was walking next to the man with who he'd shared the previous night and the morning. Albel didn't say anything, but he gave the boy a small nod, silently telling him to say his peace before someone noticed them.

"I was wonderin'… If we're stayin' the night in the castle… Maybe we could…?" He trailed off, his face flushed slightly. He wasn't sure he could even say the words… Luckily, he didn't need to.

"…I suppose, brat. Just make sure you don't touch any sake this time." Roger just smiled in response and ran back to Peppita's side. Albel watched him the entire time, for once in his life actually excited to get to Aquaria.


	6. Lezard, A Blunt Object

Real Love—A Blunt Object

by taitofan

Rated PG-13 for yaoi

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Ocean 3, the four optional characters would have been mandatory, Adray would be optional, Melt and Lezard would be sweet sweet lovers, and the other Surferio Kids would have done way more. As you can see, I don't own it.

Author's notes: Now, I usually don't go for this couple, because I'm, if it wasn't painfully obvious, very much dedicated to the thought of Melt and Lezard being soulmates. But it gave me an excuse to try out a couple I don't have a lot of experience with, and I admit writing this did indeed make me like it more. This isn't as shippy as the other chapters, but rest assured you'll get your fluff fix when I get around to writing the last chapter pairing Roger with another Surferio kid. For now, please enjoy!

10_whores prompt: 04. a blunt object

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 08-17-09

* * *

There were some days when Roger found himself not minding Lucien and his gang. Some days he longed for the friendship they once had but lost somewhere along he way as they got older. Some days he got very close to asking them to go have fun with his gang, no dares or contests in sight. And then some days…

Some days he just wanted to hit Lezard upside the head with a large, heavy, blunt object and try to knock some sense into his head.

It was always the same thing that stopped Roger from going through with his plans of friendship—Lezard _always_ had to ruin it somehow. He'd say something to Lucien, or he'd insult Melt or Dribe, or he'd _just be himself_. He was arrogant by nature, and he thought that being smart gave him the right to treat everyone else as his puppets. The Menodix boy didn't buy that for a second though; after all, Melt was just as smart, and _he_ didn't act like that. No, it was definitely just a Lezard thing… And Roger was sick of it.

…And being the impulsive young boy he was, one day after a snide comment—something about having jelly where his brain should be—Roger did something that only someone who was pushed to the breaking point would do… He picked up a big rock and chucked it at Lezard's head.

"Roger! I think you killed him!"

"Wow, that shut him up… Why didn't _I_ think of that?"

"No! Lezard's _dead_!"

While Dribe and Vellion panicked, Lucien became jealous that _he'd_ never thought of knocking his little brother out, and Roger just stood gaping and disbelieving of what he'd just done, Melt took it upon himself to check on his rival's condition.

"…He's fine." The hubbub suddenly ceased at the calm words, allowing him to continue. "He _will_ have a nasty bump on his forehead for a few days, but he will be all right otherwise."

"You sure?" Melt gave Lucien a look that said '_Don't be stupid_,' causing the older boy to shrug. "Just askin'…"

"Lucien, you should bring him home and put him in bed. He'll have a horrible headache once he awakens. Roger, help him carry Lezard. You owe him that much at least." Roger knew better than to disagree. Melt wouldn't take no for an answer once he got an idea into his head, and besides, he was right. Just because he'd wanted to knock Lezard out didn't mean he'd ever really _planned_ to…

"Fine fine, I'm goin'. Come on Lucien, let's get this over with…" As the leaders-slash-rivals carried the passed out boy down the docks, Dribe turned to Melt and sighed.

"Are you surprised that happened?" Melt shook his head, a glimmer of amusement in his bright yellow eyes.

"Not at all. Now, let us get Vellion home before he hyperventilates…"

* * *

If Roger hadn't known better, he'd think Lucien was clumsy, what with all the times he "accidentally" slipped and dropped Lezard. Roger could only be glad Lucien only had his _feet_. He hadn't realized the older boy held so much pent up frustration towards his brother…

"Are ya _tryin'_ to kill him?" Lucien snorted as he pushed the door open to their house and they headed towards the brothers' bedroom.

"I ain't the one who threw a rock at him, am I?" Touché. "'Sides, _you_ try having yer little brother constantly tellin' ya what an idiot yah are and not get a little revenge when ya can. Or havin' to hear him sayin' really dumb things about bein' better than everyone. Melt's smarter than he is…" Roger cocked an eyebrow at the last part, which had been muttered quietly…but not quietly enough.

"_You_ think _Melt_ is smart? I thought ya hated Melt? I thought ya hated _all_ of us?" Lucien's faced flushed an interesting shade of red at the questions, and he mumbled something in response. "Whaddyah say? I didn't understand a thing ya said…"

"No, I don't hate you," Lucien said a bit louder, not sounding the least bit pleased. "'Specially not Melt…but I'll kill ya if you tell him that!" Roger bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning. Yeah right, he was telling Melt the second he left! They got to the bedroom and put Lezard on his small bed, Roger turned to leave, and— "Not so fast ya goofball. You're gonna tell him anyway, aren't ya?"

"Um…no, of course not. What gave ya that idea?" The innocent act had never worked on his rival though, and it never would. Knowing that he had no choice, he sighed and nodded his head.

"Well, I ain't givin' ya the chance then. I'm gonna go tell him myself, and _you're_ gonna stay here with Lezard. Got it?" Roger opened his mouth to protest. Loudly. He didn't want to stay with Lezard! Lezard really was to blame for everything if even _Lucien_ didn't really hate them. He'd rather throw another rock at his head then—

"Hey, wait, come back!" Lucien only laughed as he ran out of the house, leaving Roger alone with the most arrogant, stuck-up boy he'd ever met. Great… With a sigh, he flopped onto Lucien's bed and settled down to wait for Lezard to wake up.

* * *

Lezard didn't typically dream—or at least, he never remembered them when he woke up. But now he found himself in a dream full of dancing rocks in robes and heels attacking Surferio. He knew it must be a dream, because it was just far too silly to ever actually happen. Not even that story Roger told about the universe being a giant game for another race was quite as farfetched.

In his odd dream, the rocks tapped their way across the docks, rolling over everyone in their way. Countless humanoids tried to stop them, only to end up flat as pancakes. His dream self watched apathetically as nameless people met their end to glittery red high heels. Oh yes, it was very, _very_ strange…

Then someone who he actually recognized appeared. The goofball… Didn't that figure? He always _had_ liked playing hero. He waved his axe around, yelling at the rocks to leave their village alone with that horrid dialect he shared with Lucien, but obviously, his demands went unfulfilled. The rocks kept coming, but the boy wouldn't move. Lezard grew more and more anxious as the rocks came closer and closer and closer _and_—

"Roger!"

"What?" Lezard had sat up as he screamed and woke up, and he spun around to see the Menodix boy lying on his brother's bed, staring at him curiously. Of course, moving so quickly hadn't been such a good idea in retrospect. His vision blurred and everything started to go black as he fell back on the pillows.

With the sight of Lezard passed out yet again, Roger could only sigh and wonder where in the world Lucien was so he could go back home.

* * *

"Don't you… Don't you think you…? _Lucien_! Calm down a moment." The incessant hands and lips on his flesh ceased at his commanding tone. "That is better. Now… Do you not think that it is highly inappropriate to engage in such activities while your brother is incapacitated?" Lucien took a few moments to decipher the fancy speech through his teenage-hormone ridden brain before he answered.

"I finally told ya I like ya, and ya wanna _stop_? No way! Lezard'll be fine. …'Sides, you're really sexy when you talk all smart, ya know that?" Melt sighed but didn't stop Lucien when he went back to that lovebite he'd been working on before. Good thing he never showed his neck in public…

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Lezard's eyes fluttered open, and seeing as he hadn't dreamed of killer rocks, he was able to sit up carefully and not strain himself. His head was still aching, but at least his vision had cleared… And it had cleared enough to see that Roger had obviously gotten bored and was reading one of his books.

"Just _what_ do you think you're doing?" Roger didn't look up as he flipped though the book titled "101 Select Dinners."

"Waitin' for Lucien to get back so I can leave. Can ya make any of these?" Lezard frowned, wondering which inane part of that he should tackle first.

"I _hardly_ need a baby sitter. It's just a bump…I'll live." Roger didn't move though. "Whatever… And yes, I can. I can make anything in there if I have the ingredients. …And why are you here anyway? Where's Lucien? Why did that excitable fool leave my assailant alone with me?" Roger finally looked up, and he made a grand spectacle of rolling his eyes towards the heavens and sighing deeply.

"Man Lezard, ya really _are_ a drama queen. Ya _just_ said it was only a little bump. Why would I of stayed if I wanted to hit ya again?" Now Lezard stayed silent, causing Roger to groan and flop back on the bed. "Look, Lucien went to talk to Melt, okay? He told me to stay here while he was gone. Now why can't ya just be nice for once in your life? Jeez…"

"I see…" Lezard said, effectively ignoring the last question. "If that's the case, Lucien won't be back for a while. He tends to moan the Silent One's name out in the middle of the night after all. I can only imagine what he's doing… Though I still can't believe he left me here with _you_." Roger decided to play Lezard's game and just ignore the last part.

"I know, he told me. …Well, about the likin' Melt thing. Didn't know he liked him _that_ much though." Lezard frowned at that. Roger could only imagine that he was being glared at through those thick glasses too.

"He told you? Why would he tell _you_? _When_ did he tell you?" Roger rolled his eyes dramatically again, enjoying it when Lezard's frown deepened.

"Yes, because he doesn't hate me, and when we were draggin' your body back here. _Anymore_ questions?" Lezard didn't answer. Roger wasn't sure why—maybe because he never expected Lucien to tell his rival anything? Maybe because this proved that "rival" did _not_ equal "enemy," and Lezard didn't like that? Who knew? He doubted he'd ever understand how the other boy's mind worked.

Roger honestly considered leaving at that point. Lezard wasn't talking to him, he was obviously fine, and Lucien would get over it anyway. Why should he stay when Lezard very clearly didn't want him there? But as the other boy suddenly groaned and clutched his head, all of those thought left his mind.

"H-hey! Ya sure you're alright? Yah aren't gonna go passin' out on me again are ya?" Even through the throbbing in his head, Lezard was able to sneer at Roger.

"Would it kill you to pronounce your words correctly?" Roger had no idea what he was talking about and could only stare back until Lezard sighed and let the sneer drop. "Oh, just forget it. I told you I'm fine. Just…just go home you little goofball. Leave me alone."

Though Roger normally would have taken that opportunity in a flash, there was something in Lezard's voice that made him hesitate. He sounded almost…lonely. The egotistical, manipulative alchemist-in-training got _lonely_? He'd never considered that before. He'd always assumed Lezard and Lucien kept each other company, but even looking around the room he wondered why he'd ever thought it. Lezard had books about alchemy and cooking, while Lucien's were all journals about his adventures. One half of the room was covered in flasks and stones, while the other had weapons and armor. They liked different things, acted differently, dressed differently, talked differently… They were brothers, but they certainly weren't twins. And if Lucien wasn't a truly close companion…

"Ya don't really have any friends." It wasn't a question, and Lezard didn't respond. "Lucien and you aren't close, ya don't treat Vellion like a friend, and ya won't even _try_ to be friends with me and my crew. Yanno, if you were nicer, I bet Melt'd be your friend, since ya have so much in common and all. I mean, I remember when we were little and were all friends. It seems like a long time ago though… I actually thought you were kinda cool back then."

Lezard glanced up, and Roger could tell that he was trying his best to hide his curiosity. It didn't work very well.

"…You did?" _Why?_ went unspoken, but implied. Of all the things Lezard thought he was, _cool_ wasn't exactly one of them. Intelligent, ingenious, and an alchemic god perhaps, but not cool. That was something that was more fit for his brother or…or Roger.

"For the same reason I think Melt is cool. Cause you're both really smart! The rest of us aren't, but you two could always answer any question in the world between the two of ya it seemed." He paused and shrugged then, realizing that they probably had very different opinions of what constituted being cool. "But Melt didn't let it go to his head, and he has friends, unlike you. Even your own brother likes Melt more!"

Despite the fact that Roger had merely been trying to get through to Lezard that he drove people away while his rival didn't, the Menodix boy was hardly known for his eloquence. Therefore, not even Lezard could be blamed when his sneer came back in full force. He glared at the other boy with all his might, doing his best to ignore the painful throbbing still coursing through his head.

"_All right_. I get it, okay? Melt's perfect and better than me in every way. I'm just a jerk that no one in the world likes who deserves getting rocks thrown at his head. _Fine_. You made your point. Now _leave me alone_." Roger didn't say anything at first. What could he? That wasn't what he meant at all! Melt had his faults as well, and if Lezard would just treat people nicer, he'd have just as many friends too!

"Lezard, that's not what I—"

"I said _go_!" The younger boy shouted, not giving Roger a chance to make him even more miserable than he already was. He was done, and Roger took the hint. With a sigh, he got up from Lucien's bed and headed for the door. Without another word, he was gone and Lezard was once again alone.

As always.

"Stupid, _stupid_ goofball," he growled, too tired and his head hurting too badly to do anything more. He curled up on his bed and closed his eyes, wishing everything would just go away.

* * *

The next day, the Real Man Contest that was supposed to take place the previous day was back on. …Supposedly. No one really looked up to having a contest though. As soon as Roger's crew had arrived at the designated area, Melt went straight over to Lucien and dragged him off from the others, just out of hearing range. Whatever he was telling the older boy, he didn't look all that happy.

Dribe and Vellion were too amazed at the unexpected behavior to even worry about the contest. That left two, Roger and Lezard, the latter of whom wouldn't even look at the former. Roger wasn't exactly surprised, but he certainly wasn't happy. If Lezard had just given him a chance to explain…

"I… I wonder what they're talkin' about," Roger finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. While part of him expected to be ignored, the other part, the part that realized Lezard could never turn down the chance to berate someone, wasn't surprised when he got a scoff as a reply.

"In case you were too blind to notice, not even that collar of his can hide your friend's bruises. I'm sure he's telling my excitable brother just how much pain he will feel if he ever goes overboard like that again." Roger hadn't even noticed to tell the truth, but looking down the docks after the pair, he did see a patch of purple creeping up his neck. The very thought about what one of his best friends must have been doing with his rival to get the bruises was enough to make him flush.

"I-I see… I guess Lucien's confession went well then." Lezard shrugged, appearing not to care to anyone who didn't know him well enough. He and Roger had lived in the same town all their lives though, and while they weren't close by any means, the Menodix boy could still tell that he wasn't as bored with the conversation as he wanted to make Roger believe. Roger wondered if he'd take any excuse just to have company after what he'd learned the night before. After that, he was _positive_ that Lezard was lonely and just refused to show it. He had to wonder why Lezard had let himself show even a bit of his vulnerability to _him_, of all people…

He didn't like the fact he hadn't gotten much sleep thinking about it so much, but he came up with a few theories at least.

"…Yes, he seemed far too happy with himself when he finally returned home for it not to have." There was something in Lezard's tone that even Roger, while not the most perceptive being in Surferio, could not ignore. Something that told him Lucien hadn't cared too much about his brother's well-being once he'd gotten home. Even worse, he knew Lucien wasn't _all_ to blame; he himself was responsible for at least part of that not-completely-concealed sadness. How many years had it been now since they'd all split into rival crews and Lezard started acting this way? Probably far too long. Lezard had always been near someone when they were small, and even if Roger was positive he'd deny it these day, it was impossible that the cat humanoid didn't still crave that attention.

Roger, if nothing else, had a wonderful imagination. He tried to envision what Lezard would be like when they were adults if he continued to deny himself friendship…or if no one would offer it. The results weren't pretty. Lezard was an alchemic genius, and he already spent far too much wasted effort on traps and devious plans during the Real Man contests. If allowed to grow up alone and bitter, just what would he be capable of doing then…?

"I ain't gonna let that happen!" Lezard looked at the other boy as if he'd sprouted a few extra limbs, which was highly appropriate considering he had no way of knowing everything that had just gone through Roger's head. Realizing that he'd said that aloud, Roger laughed nervously. "I mean… Well, never mind. Look, I'm sorry I said that stuff last night. I just meant that you could have lot of friends too, if ya weren't such a jerk."

Lezard sighed, not feeling up to putting up with Roger's…Roger-ness that morning. Wasn't it bad enough that he'd barely gotten any sleep that night between Lucien's babbling on about Melt and his own inability to stop thinking about the goofball in front of him? He certainly didn't need to be reminded that no one liked him yet again. Unfortunately for him, Roger wasn't finished.

"Wouldn't ya like to all be friends again? I know my crew would like it. If ya'd just quit calling us stupid all the time, it could work." Roger didn't know why Lezard acted the way he did, and he had a feeling that he never would. But right then, all he cared about was that the younger boy at least attempt to be civil…not that it mattered at this point. No matter how he answered, Roger had decided they _would_ be friends again. He wasn't going to look back in ten years when Lezard was some evil genius taking over the planet, kicking himself because he knew it wouldn't be happening if he'd done something.

…Besides, the night before he'd also spent time remembering that bespectacled little boy who liked making cookies. The same boy who would hang off his big brother's arm because he was too shy to let go unless Melt coaxed him out in that language the two of them were the only ones smart enough to understand. He'd decided he _missed_ that boy.

"…Hmm." The noncommittal noise wasn't what Roger wanted to hear, but he kept quiet as Lezard thought. He assumed it was a creative way to call him an idiot, but… "I…suppose that would be acceptable."

Roger had instinctively opened his mouth to reply with '_why not?_' but he caught himself in time. Had Lezard really just said _yes_? That easily?

"Really? Ya mean it?" Lezard did his best not to flush as the other boy grabbed his hands, laughing happily, but he couldn't help a twinge of pink on his cheeks.

"H-hey! C-calm down you goofball!" Lezard's embarrassed words didn't stop Roger though. He was far too excited at the thought of having all his friends back again to care about the insult. With the theories he'd come up with, he half wondered how insulting Lezard really meant it to be those days anyway.

"You'll see Lezard," the Menodix boy promised, squeezing the hands in his in an oddly gentle manner. "This'll be way better than it has been the last few years. We'll all be friends again. It'll be even better than in your dreams!"

"What do you mean, you fool?" Lezard grumbled, trying to yank his hands back. He didn't succeed. Roger was capable of wielding an axe twice his weight after all.

"I heard ya callin' my name yesterday before ya passed out again. I figured you were dreamin' that we were friends…" He paused a moment before a wide grin settled on his face. "Unless you were havin' dreams of me like Lucien does of Melt."

Lezard sputtered, losing the battle to keep his face its normal color. Why did he agree to this again…?

"Hey, it's okay, I know I'm just too irresistible." Before Lezard could retort, Roger leaned in close and pressed a chaste kiss to the other boy's cheek. He laughed as he pulled back, not seeing an inch of Lezard's face that _wasn't_ bright red. "Ya know Lezard, if ya ever feel lonely, just come to me and we'll work something out, okay? I really like it better when you're happy." The young alchemist was too stunned to do anything as Roger finally let go of his hands and ran off to the others, no doubt to tell them the news.

Lezard knew he should be angry, but he couldn't find the energy to do it right then. Sure, Roger was a goofball and always would be…but maybe if this was a sign of things to come, it wouldn't be so bad as long as Roger was _his_ goofball.

…And he stayed away from rocks.


End file.
